Reunions and Promises
by ZoSo the Twirp
Summary: Sam's arrival to the Grey Havens. Frodo is psyched/worried. Slashy. A work in progress. Sorry about the formatting!
1. Soul Mates

Title: Reunions and Promises  
  
Author: ZoSo Gamgee-Baggins  
  
Rating: G for now  
  
Slash: Of course! Slash is the spice of life.  
  
Summary: Sam's arrival to the Grey Havens. Frodo's psyched. A work in progress.  
  
Disclaimer: Hah! I wish I made all this stuff up! Alack, the great Tolkien wrote about it first, so I guess they're his. If you think I invented hobbits, or a crazy name like Frodo, then why the heck are you reading LotR fic anyway! Anyhow, this little bit of nonsense is the product of my foolish imagination. Oh and if you're saying to yourself "What's all this?! Frodo and Sam are just good friends!" then I shall stare at you blankly, then giggle. This is a shipper fic. If you're a big Rosie Cotton/non-slash fan, don't read. Have a nice day.  
  
Frodo turned to the full-length mirror in his bedroom, and gave a sigh of frustration. He smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles from his ornately embroidered waistcoat for the hundredth time that day with nervous determination. "Bilbo, do I look alright? Does everything fit right?" Bilbo jokingly rolled his eyes and nodded. Frodo turned around to face the older hobbit. "Bilbo, I'm serious. Are you sure I look alright?" Bilbo chuckled and sat down on the edge of Frodo's bed. "Yes, my boy, I'm sure." He gave Frodo a small smile, and added "He won't know what hit him." Frodo blushed and looked down at his nearly-immaculate feet. "Th………that's not what I meant, Bilbo."   
  
Bilbo gave him an amused look. "Oh it wasn't? And what did you mean by it? Because I'm sure I can find no other explanation for you to have been scampering about for weeks making sure everything, including that new outfit of yours, is perfect for Samwise's arrival. Surely you don't think me as dimwitted as that. I am a Baggins after all, not some silly Bracegirdle…" Frodo interrupted his cousin's babbling "I know that! I just want to look…presentable, that's all. Everything here is new for him, I want him to feel………comfortable here."   
  
Bilbo stood up and walked over to Frodo. "I know, lad. He'll love it. He's been waiting for this just as long as you have. He's heard the sea, heard the call from the West, beckoning him. Probably for some time now. He's had a long journey, just as you had. I'll wager he's just impatient as you are to be reunited again." Frodo sighed, and closed his eyes. "It's been sixty years, Bilbo. He stayed in the Shire, had a family, moved on, while I've been here and done nothing but pine away and wonder what he's up to, and when he'll come back to me. It's a foolish notion, believing that after being happily married, raising a family, becoming a hero, that he'll even want to be with me, an old, tired wisp of a hobbit, with nine fingers."  
  
He stared painfully at his hand. The wound had healed long ago, the bite marks now vague scar patterns. But not even the healing powers of the Grey Havens could undo the damage inflicted in the infernos of Mount Doom. Even now Frodo still would wake suddenly in the night, with throbbing, burning pains where his finger had been and around his neck. The Ring had left it's mark.  
  
"Frodo Baggins, you of all people should know that Sam is not the sort to forget about the past. Since he was a lad back in the Shire, that hobbit did nothing but serve you as best as he could, toiling in the gardens while you sat and dreamed of adventures. When you finally left the Shire, he left all his life behind and followed you, so he could look after you. He got stabbed, drowned, starved and burned for you, and you think that sixty years and a nice hobbit lass will make him forget that?" Bilbo realized then how unintentionally harsh his words had been. He rested a hand on Frodo's shoulder. Frodo hung his head, guilt filling his innocently blue eyes. "I don't deserve him, Bilbo. Not then either. I don't see why he did all those things. I'm glad Rosie took him from me, I'm glad she made him see that he can do so much better than me, because all  
  
I wanted was for him to be happy, even if it meant giving him up. I bet he regrets ever leaving the Shire."   
  
Bilbo's eyes softened. "Frodo, how could you think those things? I can tell you exactly why he did all those things. I can also tell you how he used to look at you, those evenings back in Bag End, when you would read from your favorite Elvish books. He looked at you like you were everything in the world, like the moon and the stars revolved around you. He loved you, my lad, and I'm sure he still does. The bond of soul mates can't easily be broken, not even after a hellish journey and the smiles of a pretty barmaid. You two are soul mates, Frodo, and whether you see it or not, you both deserve each other more than anything else."   
  
Frodo turned to his cousin, who after his parent's death had been the closest to a father figure he had ever had, and gave him a huge hug. Bilbo patted his back comfortingly. "There there, my boy, you don't want to have wrinkles in your clothes now, do you?" Frodo pulled away, wiping the tears from his eyes, and smiled warmly. At that moment an elf walked in, standing in the doorway. "Master Baggins, I have been sent to inform you that Mr. Gamgee's ship is close to the dock. They should arrive shortly. With that he gave a polite bow and walked back down the hall. 


	2. Daisies

Title: Daisies  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Summary: Ahh! It's attack of the flashbacks!!!  
  
Disclaimer: Blahblahblah, I don't own hobbits, darn, blahblahblah, Slash, blahblahblah, Mushiness and sentimental little halflings, insinuating!hobbits, blahblahblah, take that Rosie Cotton, blah. In short, just read the original disclaimer.  
  
Author's Note: Yay! Chapter 2! See, this is what happens when you leave a shipper alone on Winter vacation with a DVD Player, the internet, and a nearby movie theater showing TTT. Let that be a warning. This is such fluff, but I like fluff, so it's all good. Also, many thanks to those who reviewed the first chappie, and thanks in advance to those who review in the future. Oh, and thanks to she who sent me a wicked cool e-card b/c she liked my fic. Aww, I feel so loved…Oh, yea, the Elvish. Yea, I wrote that poem myself (I can hear the shouts of "dork!" now….), and yea, it's actually not gibberish, I just didn't feel like putting in a translation (it loses a lot in translation), although this poem might show up in later chapters. Oh, and my Elvish ain't great, any corrections with the grammar and such would be great.  
   
   
Reunions and Promises  
-Chapter 2-  
Daisies  
   
   
Bilbo had left to join the welcome party at the docks, and left Frodo in his bedchamber. Frodo fidgeted with the edges of his new outfit. He had had it sewn just for this occasion, to his exacting specifications. Since there was not much call for new finery in the Undying Lands, materials were hard to come by, but Frodo had managed to scrape together some wonderful Elven fabric, and, since he was about half the size of almost everyone else on the island, he didn't need much. His breeches were a wonderful forest-green velveteen, his jacket of the same fabric, a shade darker. His shirt was crisp white linen, ironed and pressed till he was sure no wrinkle would dare show themselves in the fabric. And then there was the waistcoat, which had taken the longest time to make. Deep emerald brocade, it fit perfectly, and Frodo had the best seamstress on the island embroider it, she was happy to do it for "such a noble cause." Frodo stared at the little white and gold flowers winding around the buttons, and across his chest. Daisies. He mouthed the word silently to himself, in sudden remembrance. 'Daisies.…'  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
   
Frodo sighed and slumped down in his chair as he gave up all hope of getting any real work done. Though he found the ancient Elven text very interesting, he was far too distracted by what lay outside the large circular window looking out into the Bag End gardens. They were truly beautiful, filled with so much care and love and bursting with vibrancy and life. This was all thanks of course to his talented gardener, who worked every day without fail, weeding and planting and taking care of things. Indeed, Sam Gamgee, though he was barely an adult, having just turned thirty-three, had a way about him, when it came to the garden at least. During planting season, he would bend down to look at the trays of new plants, picking up each one and inspecting it, with a look of pure awe on his handsome suntanned face. Frodo frowned at his own rambling thoughts, and scolded himself *'Frodo Baggins, are you more distracted by the garden, or the gardener?' *  
  
He once again picked up his quill, now seeming unbearably heavy, and stared in vain focus at the page of Tengwar in front of him. The poem he was trying to translate was about the tale of Luinhenion and Baranfinion, and Frodo furrowed his brow as he attempted to make out the words. He was strangely determined to translate this poem, something about this tale hit him somehow, he wasn't quite sure why.  
   
Vanwamel, thar iae.  
I met dé nië o ereb yrë .  
Thalion Baranfinion, nil  
Fim Luinhenion, hil  
Thar arda, tú l fuin,.  
Baranfinion tir-mellon.  
Ai! Vana Luinhenion  
Cel palan-bar, mar i mith-lonn  
A Baranfinion, ereb, tir-numé n  
mí -estel-o tú l-amatol,  
mí -estel-o sulë -iluve  
Luinhenion tir i cair nef i falath  
A mí celebhith,  
Baranfinion a Luinhenion   
N've iluve, hi mel,  
Fuinello, pella arda,  
Hain uva tinui,  
Eldar ar-mellon.  
  
Before Frodo could do anymore translating, however, he heard a call from outside that made his stomach do a flip. *"Mr. Frodo! Reckon you might like to take a look at this, sir, if you're not too busy, that is."* All too willing to take a break from wasting away in the dusty clutter of the library, Frodo slid the old tome aside and practically jumped out of his chair. As he opened the door of his smial, he was greeted with warm sunlight on his face. He inhaled the intoxicating scent of the gardens. Something was in the air, something that breathed new hope into his heart, and made his spirits lift. It was a beautiful day.   
  
"Mr. Frodo! Over here, sir." Sam beckoned for Frodo to walk over and kneel down in front of a small flower bed tucked away under a short hedgerow. Frodo willingly obliged, careful not to get his knees too grass stained. Sam gazed at a small cluster of newly blooming daisies. Their tiny golden faces, wreathed in bright white petals, looked up to the sky.   
  
"They just started bloomin'" Sam explained, "Gaffer's been trying to grow daisies here for ages, said they'd brighten up the garden, but they just never seemed to take. Seems they've changed their minds." They were pretty little things, their beauty seeming to emerge from their simplicity. 'Like you, Sam.' Frodo thought. He scolded himself for this. Why could he not stop these thoughts? They weren't right, and surely nothing was ever to become of them. This was one little pain he'd just have to deal with in silence, though, maybe if….no. Sam would never, ever…. Frodo realized he was not paying any attention, and again focused on Sam, perhaps a little too intently.   
  
Sam ran his fingers across the petals of one of the biggest daisies from the small patch "Isn't this one beautiful, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked, and Frodo couldn't help but smile in admiration at Sam's love of growing things. All of a sudden Sam furrowed his brows, as if he was in the midst of making some very important decision. The decision passed quickly though, apparently, and without warning, Sam reached out a dirt-covered hand and picked the flower, handing it to Frodo. Frodo felt his stomach do yet another flip. He took the daisy, twirling it in his fingers. Biting his lip, Frodo looked at the flower, seemingly staring right through it. Frodo shook his head in response. Sam looked hurt.   
  
"You don't think it's beautiful Mr. Frodo?" Frodo looked down at the daisy once again. "No Sam." Sam looked at him with a faint look of worried confusion. Smiling briefly, Frodo lifted the flower up and tucked it behind Sam's ear. "Now it's beautiful." Frodo let his hand linger against Sam's cheek, now a deep shade of pink from sunburn and blushing, running down the side of his face before at last coming to rest on the cool grass beside him. Where had this sudden burst of courage come from? Frodo began to regret his forwardness, when a wave of determination blotted out whatever his conscience and good judgment were telling him. It was bound to happen sometime. It can't be helped. Frodo looked up, straight into Sam's deep brown eyes. Their gazes locked, and Frodo felt like he was about to drown at any moment in those deep loving eyes.   
  
Sam's eyes were questioning, cautiously excited, but not willing to betray those thoughts the young gardener had kept well hidden since his early tweens. Sam Gamgee was a shy creature, and grew shyer still when his feelings, or a misunderstanding of his master's, could mean the end of his career, as well as the end of their friendship. He decided that it was best for him to initiate nothing, and leave it to Frodo to make his own feelings known, whatever they may be.  
  
Frodo sensed that Sam was somehow holding back. This worried him, but he also understood how shy Sam could be. If this was going to amount to anything, he would have to make it so. Heart beating so loud Frodo was sure the entire length of Bagshot Row would be able to hear it, he leaned his head in closer to Sam's, immeasurably slowly. Sam made no effort to back away, and Frodo took this as a good sign. Eyes still locked on one another, Frodo tilted his head closer still. This time, he could swear that Sam had moved closer too. The two were now separated by mere inches. Frodo could feel Sam's breath, could hear his pulse. It was just as loud as his own. They stayed that way, faces only a breath apart, for what seemed like an age. Frodo at last could stand this foolish caution no longer.   
  
With a sudden but gentle motion, he pressed his lips to Sam's. Frodo was sure that at that precise moment, time stood still. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of Sam's mouth against his own. The kiss was only brief though, and Frodo pulled away, looking again at Sam. Frodo's breath hitched as he searched Sam's expression for silent encouragement, or any shred of doubt or fear. Sam slowly opened his eyes, they seemed to have shut by themselves. Sam was silent for a moment, attempting to regain his wits, when at last he managed to get out "*That*.…was beautiful."   
  
Frodo laughed, half out of joy, half out of relief. "Sam…." he began, eye's sparkling. He stopped when he saw Sam look down, shaking his head. "Sam, what's wrong?" Frodo began to worry. "See, now you've gone and done it…." Sam sounded exasperated but at the same time joyful. Frodo was now not only worried but confused. "Done what Sam?"  
  
Sam slumped his broad shoulders, and began to pick at the little blades of grass he was kneeling around. "Well, Mr. Frodo, you went and….and….well, you know."   
  
"I kissed you, Sam."  
  
"Yes, that. Well you kissed me, and now I'm worried. Because now I reckon I'm not gonna be able to stop, if you take my meaning." Sam seemed very concerned by this, and Frodo couldn't quite tell if Sam was being serious. "And now I'm just gonna want to keep on kissing you and such all the time, and keep you all for myself, and I won't ever want to let go. So you see, Mr. Frodo…."  
  
Sam was silenced by a pale finger pressed to his lips. "Sam." He looked up to see two deep blue eyes staring right at him.   
  
"I don't think I'd mind one bit."  
  
"Well then, Mr. Frodo, I reckon I'd like that just fine."  
  
Frodo gave a small surprised cry as Sam nearly knocked him over, wrapping him up in his strong arms and kissing him with more boldness and passion than Frodo had ever thought Sam was capable of. *'Perhaps this is why that Cotton lass fancies him so.'* His stomach did yet another flip and he almost laughed out loud with joy. *'Too bad for her.'* He thought.  
  
Sam pulled back unexpectedly, leaving Frodo in a state of bewilderment.   
  
"Oh no."  
  
"Sam? What in the…"  
  
"Well, look at your Mr. Frodo, you're right covered in grass and dirt you are! Oh, but that's a shame. I mean, it's fine for me to get all covered in dirt and such, but look at your beautiful clothes! It'll take ages for them stains to come out…"  
  
Frodo laughed. He had thought least that Lobelia Sackville-Baggins had come to call at Bag-End, and had decided to take a stroll through the garden. "Well Sam," he said, clearly not caring all that much about the grass-stains. "I suppose we'd better go inside then. I should probably get out of all these dirty clothes, you know."  
  
With that he got up, dusted himself off, and made his way to the door. He looked back to see Sam, who had not moved at all, jaw hanging open, blushing from head to toe. Frodo laughed again. "Coming Sam?" Sam made an incoherent sound of agreement, and clumsily got up, nearly running to catch up with Frodo as they both went inside, shutting the big green door after them.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Frodo nearly jumped as he was stirred out of his reverie by the same Elf that had come into his chambers earlier.   
  
"Master Baggins, I suggest you make your way to the docks soon sir, if you wish to be one of the welcome party."  
  
Frodo had nearly forgotten he had to leave.  
  
"Oh, thank you! I'll be right there!"  
  
The Elf nearly had the wind knocked out of him as a tiny green blur rushed past him and down the hall. 


	3. Safe

Title: Safe  
Rating: PG  
Summary: Sam finally gets to the West, at the request of my homie the fool, who refuses to read this until the boys are together again. Oh, and flashbacks. (what'd you expect? Jeez...) Oh, and if this fic was any fluffier, I could use it as a pillow.  
Disclaimer: Man I am starting to hate these. Ok...Blah blah I don't own these adorable little halflings, no, not even Sam, the most adorable of all, blah blah I am not Tolkien, this was most likely not what he had in mind for his characters, that's fine with me, blah blah I am a mere unemployed student, if you sue me all you will get is a few beat up Rocky Horror costumes and a rather psychotic guinea pig...blah. Oh, and this is slash. Would you expect anything less?  
Author's Note: Well, I'm back. Sorry it took so long to update, I've been busy doing...absolutely nothing really. I just lacked inspiration or a decent plot idea. But I am back, and so is this fic, and I hope you enjoy. Oh, and as always, Rosie is evil. Yes, precious, evil...  
  
Review responses:  
~Kuan Yin~ Thanks! Your reviews always make me smile, did you know that? I'm glad you enjoy my fic, oh, and that Good Charlotte song is very nice, I put it on this S/F mix I made (yea yea I have too much free time...) Oh, and that part in Cirith Ungol? Slashiest part EVER!  
~Morien Alexander~ Thanks! And yes, I want to see my Sam and his Frodo be happy and cute as well, so I'll try to have as little angst as possible, without making it too fluffy. The formatting has been fixed, somewhat, and hopefully will not cause any more major problems.  
~darkest star~ Thanks sooo much! Your reviews made me very happy. I am so glad you enjoy the fic, and hopefully the next chapters will be just as good! "Best.Line.Ever."...haha! Thanks!  
~Haeharmaiel~ Greetings fellow S/F shipper! Really, is there any other kind of shipper? Glad to see other S/F fans out there, keep reading! I'm glad I'm keeping you in suspense, after all, if no one reads this, what kind of author am I? Yes, I thought the flower thing was cute too, if not a bit fluffy. Oh, and btw, your fic is outstanding, all of it. But what's up with the F/M in A Fallen Angel? I will not read a single word of it until you explain yourself...  
~Pesky Lamb~ Thank you dear! You know I write it for you!   
~Merry the Fool~ Yay! She reviewed! Yes, curse that Rosie Cotton wench...grrr...and long live Frodo Gamgee! *sigh*...if only...  
~Amethyst Garden~ Eek! I have no intention of stopping, but I have to take some time off sometimes, for, you know, eating, and sleeping, and watching TTT 8 times...you know. Don't worry, as long as I get lovely and very inspiring reviews such as yours, I'm not goin' anywhere.  
~HeatherStacieA~ Thanks, and I definitely will post more. And thanks for the comment about the description. Long live Sam and Frodo indeed!  
~Avari~ Eee! I'm glad to see that my fic has not disappointed you, and I hope you continue to read and review. And thanks for your comments in the Rosie Cotton and Anti-Slash threads on MT, you saved me from looking like even more of a fool than I did. Thanks!  
~Luthien~ No, it is the fact that you liked my fic that is sooo great! And I will continue it, don't worry!  
~Godforsaken~ I get an "awww" and a *sniff*? Awesome! Thanks, and I'm glad you enjoyed the flashback, I'm thinking of putting one in every chapter, so it kind of tells their history as well as when the story takes place, so enjoy!  
~SuperHyperBerryBomb~ Hmm, your review has astounded and amazed me with your use of grammar and spelling to convey an intellectual and thought-provoking comment. Thank you. What is scary is that I read your profile, curious as to what kind of person reads a slash fic, then gives it a random and wholly dumb review, and I was very scared, because MY name is Hannah, MY eyes are hazel/brown, MY favorite food is chocolate, MY favorite hobby is playing guitar and writing songs, and MY best friend's name is Morgan. Now, my question is, with all this in common, how is it that one little disagreement about slash could lead to such negativity? Peace people, increase the peace.  
~Poppy Hilldweller~ Many thanks m'lady, *bows*, I am so glad you took the time to read my fic, it is an honor, and I'll see you on BoE!  
~freakfyrz~ Hey, anything I can do to add to the library of S/F slash...thanks for reading!  
~merripestin~ Thanks! Hmm yea I was wondering about the daisies too, but just like our friend PJ, I took a little bit of "artistic liberty". And Sam never said they were hard to grow, he just said they didn't grow, which, I have found in my gardening experiences, happens sometimes even with the easiest to grow flowers. But thanks for the tip!  
~Marauder~ Thanks so much! I must admit that The Language of Kisses & The Language of Touch blasts my fic out of the water, I am addicted to it, so I will make this deal, I'll keep updating my fic as long as you keep updating yours, hmmm? ;)  
~Gimli~ Gee, thanks hun, glad to know you didn't expect my fic to be good. Heehee, just kiddin. Glad to know you liked it, it may not be R/R, but I'm gonna make sure you read every other chapter, if I have to kick your dad off the internet and tie you to the computer chair, using crafty Boy Scout knots, of course. Oh, and may Rosie Cotton suffer a thousand painful tortures.   
~Amrunofthesummercountry~ Thanks! Yes, fluff is good, and yes I do have some ideas as to how to get over the whole Rosie predicament (oh how I hate her), any suggestions would be lovely, I'm thinking it'll be a flashback in a later chapter.  
~ARWVB~ Yes, dear, thank you SOOO much for reading this aloud in English class. For that I owe you. Yes, precious....and don't worry, from now on I will force you to read ALL of my fics....forever....I know where you live....  
Whew, that was way too long, but I just wanted to show how much I appreciate everyone's reviews, you all are awesome. And so, without any further pointless rambling, I give you...  
Reunions and Promises:  
Chapter Three  
~Safe~  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harsh winds whistled on the barren terrain of Emyn Muil. As Frodo lay on the cold ground under blankets and cloaks, he felt an overwhelming sense of dread and fear sweep over him. His surroundings suddenly shifted, and all around him dark faceless shadows writhed and drifted. He could see in front of him a menacing presence was making its way closer. On all sides he heard achingly loud but indistinguishable noise, and behind that the voice of something unseen but evil, speaking to him in the black tongue of Mordor. He tried to escape, tried to do anything to get away from the shadows, but a pair of gnarled and decaying hands were restraining him. He was being held down, pinned to the ground by a being or beings of great force. He cried out as loud as he could, but his efforts were drowned out by the great evil noise.   
  
The presence was getting closer, and Frodo shut his eyes as tight as he could. Try as he might, he could not move. He wondered whether it was the hands that were preventing him form moving, or his own will, bending under the power of the One.   
  
Frodo could feel the thing getting closer now, so that he could feel it all around him, and he heard over the painful noise it's voice in his mind, calling to him to let go, to surrender to the darkness that was speedily encompassing him. The presence was unbearably close now, and Frodo could feel the thing staring into his very soul. His eyes shot open, and we was face to face with the eye of...  
  
Sam. Frodo looked up, staring wide-eyed at Sam, who was leaning over Frodo, pinning him at the shoulders. Sam, seeing that his master was now awake, sat back, breathing a sigh of relief. Frodo was dumbfounded, still not quite sure that what he had seen and heard and felt was a dream, could only manage to get out "Sam" in a hoarse whisper.  
  
"Are you alright, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked, gently grabbing hold of Frodo's arm, as if to make sure he was really there. "I heard you cryin' out in your sleep, sir, and was worried, you see. I guessed you were having another bad dream, and thought I should wake you up, but you were kickin' and screamin' something terrible, and I had to hold you down so you wouldn't hit me."  
  
Frodo had gone pale and was shaking, now. He didn't seem to have heard Sam at all. "Frodo, are you alright? Frodo?" Sam, very worried now, grabbed Frodo's other arm and turned him so they were face to face. Sam shook Frodo gently, trying to bring him back from this trance-like state. "Frodo. Frodo!" Sam cried, trying desperately to get Frodo's attention. He brought his face very close to Frodo's, trying to at least get eye contact.  
  
Frodo looked into Sam's eyes, at last seeming to gain consciousness. He looked for a moment, and then his face contorted into a look of utter pain, and he began to cry. Seeing Frodo like this was too much for Sam. Without any hesitation he scooped Frodo up into his arms and cradled him there as if he were a frightened child. Frodo continued to cry, a little quieter now, burying deep as he could into the folds of Sam's cloak.   
  
"Sam," Frodo said weakly but urgently. "He's coming Sam, he knows where I'm hiding, he saw me, he's looking for It, he won't stop Sam, he'll find It, he'll find us, Sam, then what will we do, I can't fight It..." Frodo's voice was growing steadily agitated, almost to the point of hysteria. All Sam could think to do was hold Frodo closer, desperately trying to calm him down.   
  
"Shhh, dear, it's all alright. Your Sam's here, I won't let anyone get at you. Shhh, calm down now, love, everything will be alright, you hear me?" Sam knew perfectly well that everything would not be alright, but he intended to keep that to himself. One thing was certain, if anything did try to get at Frodo, be it Orcs or the Dark Lord himself, he'd fight back all he could to keep Frodo safe.  
  
Sam's words seemed to have clamed Frodo a bit, he now felt less tense in Sam's arms. Frodo looked up at him, his face ashen and his eyes still red from tears. He leaned up to press a brief kiss to Sam's lips, then settled back down and closed his eyes. Just as Sam was beginning to think Frodo had fallen asleep, he heard Frodo's voice, very faint and lilting as if already drifting asleep:  
"Sam."  
"Mmm?"  
"Thank you."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Frodo stood at the dock next to Bilbo, with the rest of the welcome party behind. His mind was so filled with conflicting thoughts that he did not quite know what he should be thinking. What was he going to do when he saw Sam? What would Sam do when he saw him? What would Sam look like? Frodo knew that he looked the same as he ever had since his thirty-third birthday, although he was a bit less careworn. Even Bilbo had regained some of his youthful vigor. But Sam had only been a Ringbearer for a brief time, and had to be at least ninety by now. (At this thought Frodo realized just how easy it was to lose track of time on the blessed Isle) Would Sam look the same as he did when last Frodo saw him? He must have changed. Would he even be the same person anymore? He recalled the conversation he had just had with Bilbo, and forced himself to calm down. Sam was coming back. He had nothing to worry about.   
  
Through the thick grey mist, Frodo could just see something close to the dock. At this all rational thought left him. It was the hull of a ship. It would be at the dock any moment, unloading its precious cargo. It was all Frodo could do to keep himself together at this moment. Sixty years. What would he say?  
  
In no time at all the ship had docked, and a figure could be seen being helped off the ship and making it's way down the dock. As the figure moved closer, the fog seemed to move around as if to make way. There could be no mistaking him now. Frodo stood motionless. The figure stopped a mere fifteen feet away. Still, Frodo stood. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, he began to speak, practically under his breath.  
  
"N've iluve, hi mel,   
Fuinello, pella arda,  
Hain uva tinui,  
Eldar ar-mellon."  
  
Frodo was snapped out of his reverie by a sharp but well-meant elbow (namely Bilbo's) to his side. "Don't stand around all day, boy. Lelya!"  
  
At this Frodo took a few steps forward, then started off at a run. He only got halfway there before he was taken up into Sam's arms immediately. Even though they were on a foggy dock, in cold weather, Frodo felt as if the sun shone on them with such radiance that even the Elves couldn't write poetry about it. Sixty years, and it already felt as if he hadn't been gone a day.   
  
Frodo felt Sam lift his head up. Frodo looked up to see Sam nod briefly and smile at someone behind him. Just as Frodo was in the middle of wondering what was conspiring behind his back, his train of thought was interrupted; without warning, Frodo found himself caught up in a slow, lingering, but powerful kiss, the kind of kiss that had not been bestowed upon him for quite some time. For a few moments it was all he could do to remember how to breathe.  
  
Suddenly remembering the large company he was in, he pulled back unceremoniously. "Sam!" he made an attempt at sounding shocked, but only succeeded in sounding wholly flustered and not at all unpleased. At this he heard Bilbo good-naturedly laugh out loud. Frodo turned his head to look around behind him, and saw Bilbo smiling. "What are you looking at me for, Frodo-lad?" he called back, "Almien, mellyn!" The rest of the company looked happy and glad, and waved back at Frodo and Sam.  
  
Frodo turned back to look at Sam, who was positively beaming, looking as warm and lovely as ever. At this he wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, whispering into his ear "I missed you.". Sam kissed his cheek. "I know." 


End file.
